


Broken Nights

by CocotteJenn



Series: Ana Surana, Alwyn Hawke (aka the Sad Mages worldstate) [17]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alistair is dead, Angst, Broken Circle, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocotteJenn/pseuds/CocotteJenn
Summary: Five years after the end of the Blight, what happened at Kinloch Hold still haunts Surana's nights.





	Broken Nights

Surana’s eyes shot open in the dark. Heart pounding, she wondered for a few seconds where she was, if she was back in the tower, trapped in that cursed place for the rest of her life. She blinked twice, her vision slowly adjusting to the surrounding darkness. The ceiling above her looked familiar… The Vigil. She was at Vigil’s Keep, in her bed, safe. A nightmare, then. Nothing more than another stupid nightmare. She let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.   
  
As she closed her eyes to go back to sleep, vivid images of her Circle friends lying in a river of blood came crashing down on her. Niall, Eadric… Daylen…  _ It was just a nightmare, _ she kept repeating in her mind,  _ a bad dream. It's not real. _ But it  _ was _ real. They were truly gone.    
  
It had been five years since the Blight ended and yet, the memories were still fresh in her mind. She could still recall the rancid smell of the Tower, the walls covered with rotting flesh, the screams of her people being tortured, the sight of Cullen half mad after days of endless torment. She remembered Niall’s final goodbyes,  _ ‘My mother said I was meant for greatness. I hope I haven't disappointed her.’ _ And the way Wynne’s face had fallen when she'd told Ana how Day had been amongst the firsts to die. Smug and nonchalant Daylen Amell who sacrificed his life protecting children.   
  
Uldred had paid for his crimes. Yet it was not enough. She kept thinking about how she could have saved them if only she had been there.  _ ‘If you had been there,’ _ Alistair had told her at the time as they sat on the banks of Lake Calenhad,  _ ‘you would have died too. And then who would be left to save the world from the Blight? Me? That's a scary thought.’ _ They had laughed at the idea. Alistair, who could barely make two steps without walking into a foothold trap, saving the world on his own? How preposterous!   
  
It wasn't funny anymore.   
  
Ana reached out a trembling hand to feel the presence of the broad figure lying next to her. His skin felt cool against hers, soothing. “Carver?” she called for him, her voice cracking with grief.   
  
She heard a small whimper as he awoke and felt him turn around awkwardly under the sheets. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, letting her head rest on his chest. “I'm here,” he murmured still half-asleep. “It's all right.”   
  
She held onto him tight, relieved that she didn't wake to an empty bed or worse, the blighted Deep Roads. He was real, he wasn't going to disappear. “I'm here,” he repeated in a comforting tone as if he could hear her thoughts. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’re safe.” He started gently caressing her back while whispering more calming words to her. Ana hadn't known such tenderness in years, not since Alistair had died. She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of what had happened on that fateful night and started sobbing uncontrollably when she remembered how she had failed to save him too, how her selfishness had led to his death.   
  
She let the tears flow down her cheeks and onto Carver’s naked chest. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair, brushing a few strands away from her sweaty face. If he was at all disturbed by all the unladylike fluids she was rubbing on him, he didn't show it. Instead, he was gentle and caring. He started humming what sounded like a lullaby, or perhaps a prayer. His brother used to do that, he had once told her, when he was little and he or their sister got scared at night. She thought it was a sweet gesture, even though it did little to soothe the pain in her chest that night.   
  
Ana decided to concentrate on her breathing, trying to match it to the pace of the slow rises of Carver’s chest. It was hard at first, even painful, every breath feeling like her ribcage was going to burst, but it did the trick and she slowly calmed down. Eventually, she felt her heart beat slower, her lungs stopped burning and the shakes of her body turned into a simple shiver.   
  
He kissed the top of her head. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after she loosened her grip around him.   
  
“No, it's fine. I'm feeling better now.” Wiping her face with the sleeve of her nightshirt, Surana rose up to look at him. His deep blue eyes were filled with love and worry. Hers were still red and puffy, and she probably had a bit of snot clinging off her nose, but she tried to offer him a small reassuring smile nonetheless.   
  
He smiled back and cupped her face with his calloused hands, drying her wet cheeks with a brush of his fingers. “I love you, Ana. You know that, right?”   
  
She reached down to give him a tender kiss. “I love you too.”    



End file.
